Hellishly Ever After (Infernal Covenant Book 1)

by Nadine Mutas

  I barely kept my face from showing my confusion. Why not just give me the order himself?

  Azazel’s hand on my head, warm and gentle. “Stand,” he said quietly. “Go to His Grace.”

  I was just flexing my thigh muscles to rise when Lucifer clucked his tongue.

  “I didn’t say she could walk.”

  Low laughter, followed by a beat of silence. My heart thundered so loud I could have sworn every demon in the hall must have heard it.

  “Make her crawl,” Lucifer purred.

  The ensuing pause dragged on long enough to cause me worry. Azazel’s fingers on my head twitched, the beacon of his energy inside me tasting acidic.

  Zoe, he said in my mind, his mental voice rough. You don’t need—

  It’s okay, I replied. I’ll do it.

  He walked back into his nightmare for me. If my crawling across the floor would save his face, I’d fucking do it.

  “Crawl,” he ordered, followed by a mentally whispered, I’m sorry.

  Swallowing against the sting of my pride, I lowered my trembling hands to the floor, and crawled. The high slits in my dress allowed me to move my knees forward without tripping on the fabric. With the dais a good ten feet away, it took me maybe twenty seconds to cross the distance.

  It felt like an hour.

  The attention of the scores of demons present weighed heavily on me. Amused murmurs and sneering sounds followed my progress, the kind of sounds you’d make to call an animal.

  A pet.

  By the time I reached the steps of the dais, my entire upper body burned with embarrassment. Underneath that, however, boiled my notorious spite, so welcome now in this moment. Because it helped me not to show any of the mortification I felt when I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and inclined my head toward Lucifer. He wanted to embarrass me, hm? He wouldn’t get to see even an iota of my discomfort.

  I bolstered my inner defenses with the grim pleasure of the knowledge that we’d soon be stealing a soul right out of his fucking palace with him none the wiser, so whatever sick entertainment he demanded before then didn’t matter. Getting my father out did. Robbing Lucifer in the process was icing on the cake.

  “Come closer.”

  I saw Lucifer beckon me out of the periphery of my eyes. Tentatively, I crawled up the stairs onto the dais, halting—on my knees still—right in front of his throne. His boots and lower legs filled my vision.

  “Good girl,” Lucifer crooned.

  I wanted to throat-punch him. I’m going to steal from you, I thought with smug satisfaction, making sure my mental shields were adamantine in strength.

  “Now,” he went on, leaning forward and lifting my head with one finger under my chin, “let me look at you.”

  I was smarter than to meet his gaze. Not just out of required deference, but for safety reasons too. Who knew what kind of power he’d have over me with direct eye contact?

  I focused on his nose instead. Straight, aristocratic, a masterpiece of nasal form. As far as schnozzles went, his was beyond reproach, truly worthy of—

  “Quite ordinary,” Lucifer said, rudely interrupting my anxious mental rambling.

  Ordinary? Oh, that motherf—

  “But maybe there’s some hidden charm?” he went on, blissfully unaware of the names I called him in the privacy of my mind. “Some quirk beyond your unremarkable appearance that would move Azazel to bring you here before your time?”

  Unremarkable. I wanted to mark his face with my nails.

  “Ah, but it would be remiss of me not to offer you refreshments first.” He scratched underneath my chin with his finger, and I suppressed a repulsive shudder. “Here, pet.”

  A cup appeared in his other hand, and he brought it to my mouth. I recoiled at the golden liquid inside. Amrit.

  No, no, no. Azazel had warned me about this. The memory of his meeting with Zaquiel flashed in my mind, the cautionary way he talked about amrit, how it did unpredictable things to humans.

  I clamped my lips shut tight.

  “Drink,” Lucifer ordered, his voice silk wrapped over steel.

  Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. There was no polite way to refuse a direct order from the devil. Sweat beaded on my forehead.

  “Your Grace,” Azazel quietly said from behind me, “she shouldn’t—”

  “Do not,” Lucifer cut him off with soft menace, “spurn the hospitality of my hall.”

  I could feel Azazel’s desperate frustration roll against my back like a wave crashing onto a cliff.

  “Drink,” Lucifer said again, and set the cup against my lips.

  To refuse would be an affront, and I’d sworn not to fuck this up.

  Chest tight with foreboding, I opened my mouth and drank.

  Chapter 19

  Sweet taste exploded in my mouth, warmth prickling down my throat as I swallowed. Like freshly made wine, fruity and sugary, the amrit tickled my taste buds and went straight to my head.

  “There now,” Lucifer murmured. “A bit more.”

  He made me drink the whole damn cup. Not a minute after I’d swallowed the last of it, the effects hit me like a bat to my brain.

  Exhilaration rushed through me, a thousand tiny explosions of euphoria that made me gasp and smile. The world tilted sideways. I swayed, flailed, caught in the rocking of a ship on a stormy sea.

  Something grabbed me. A kraken? I slapped at the tentacles. If those suckers got a hold of my dress, they’d ruin the beautiful fabric!

  “Bad octopus,” I snapped.

  A low male laugh. It sounded contagious, mesmerizing. I turned toward the sound. Overlaid by rainbow sparkles, Lucifer’s face came into focus.

  “Oh, you,” I whispered. There was something about him I should have remembered, something tickling in the back of my brain, but the rainbow sparkles distracted me. I looked down at where he held me upright with his hands around my shoulders. “You don’t have tentacles.”

  “Sadly, no.” He did sound sad.

  “That would be interesting,” a woman said.

  My head swiveled in her direction. Lilith. She smiled at me, and I smiled right back.

  “You’re so pretty,” I whispered, awestruck.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was honey and warm summer nights, and I just wanted to lie at her feet and gaze up at her.

  I leaned forward to do just that, but Lucifer pulled me back upright. I tilted my head to follow the way the room canted to the right. I floated, happy, giggling.

  “Eyes on me,” Lucifer said, and turned my face toward him with a hand under my chin.

  I frowned at him. “You look weird.” I waved in the general direction of his head.

  “Is it the lack of horns?” The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “It tends to confuse people.”

  “No.” I narrowed my eyes. “It’s your hair. Why are you blond?”

  He laughed, and I laughed with him. Giddy, I felt so giddy.

  “How did you come to be here in Hell?” he asked.

  “Well, I came through a hellgate, duh.”

  “Right. But why?”

  “’Cause Earth and Hell are different dimensions,” I said slowly, as if explaining it to a child. Leaning in, I added in a whisper, “I thought you knew that.”

  Chuckles all around me, and I smiled and turned to see who was laughing, only to inexplicably lose my balance and keel over. I couldn’t feel my legs. Oh, God, where did my legs go? I patted down my body and rifled through the folds of my dress until my hands touched my legs. Oh, thank fuck, they’re still attached to me.

  Lucifer grabbed my elbow, pulled me up and made me sit on his lap. The room spun, but I didn’t mind. The butterflies in my stomach said it was okay.

  “Are you really Azazel’s pet?” Lucifer’s question drew my attention to him again.

  “Pet peeve,” I corrected with a raised finger. I frowned at that finger. “Have you ever noticed how strange fingers are?”

  I bent it, straightened it again, fascinated by the
motion. Grinning, I used that finger to boop Lucifer on his masterpiece of a nose.

  Someone made a strangled sound.

  Oh, no. I tensed, half-turned and yelled, “Quick, someone’s choking! We need a Heimlich maneuver!”

  I was about to get off Lucifer’s lap to help, but he held me fast with his hands on my waist.

  “Why would Azazel be peeved by you?”

  I turned back to him. “’Cause he didn’t want any of this to begin with.”

  “Ah.” He stroked my cheek. His eyes were blue, I noticed. Turquoise blue, like the ocean in those places with white sand beaches. “And what is ‘this?’ Tell me, Zoe, what’s the deal you made with him?”

  “Well,” I began, biting my lip, “it’s equal parts funny and embarrassing.”

  “That’s all right.” His smile was reassuring. “We’re all friends here.”

  “Okay.” I grinned and rubbed my nose. “So, when I was thirteen, my best friend and I were a bit romantically challenged, you know, and, like, totally scared of ending up alone. I mean, I’d never even had a boyfriend at that time, and the way my face was breaking out, I wasn’t sure that would ever change. There’s a reason there are no photos of me left over from that time.” I gave him a significant look.

  He nodded, his eyes twinkling, like the sun sparkling on ocean waves. Chin on his hand, a faint smile on his face, he regarded me with such utter attention that warmth bubbled through my veins. “Do go on.”

  “Anywho, so Taylor and I got this wild idea to make sure we would be spared the horrible fate of staying single—” I rolled my eyes “—and we decided to hold a séance-summoning thingy with this old book that was mostly gibberish that I found in our attic. We didn’t expect anything to happen, really, but it actually worked! Well, for me, at least. Tay chickened out and ran because the lights flickered, but I was in the middle of what turned out to be a demon summoning, and…it’s bit blurry from there, but the gist of it is that I ended up in this deal with Azazel where he’d have to marry me if I’m still single at twenty-five, which just happened recently, and so now I’m here.”

  I waved my arm to indicate the whole of Hell, and almost toppled over. Lucifer caught me before I slid off his lap. He was really good at that! Demons around us chuckled. I giggled.

  Something stung in my chest, and I gasped and rubbed a hand over my breastbone. An echo of a dark, hot feeling pinged inside me, and I frowned, poked at my chest. That wasn’t my feeling. I was feeling great! The world was far too sparkly to feel anything but happy. How weird.

  “So Azazel is married?” Lucifer drawled.

  “Yep.”

  Snickers rose around us.

  “To a human who tricked him? When she was a child?”

  The snickers turned to outright laughter.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say tricked.” I squinted. “I mean, I didn’t even know what I was doing, not really. I thought it was a fun little spell or something.”

  “Of course,” Lucifer said, his voice full of mirth, his chest shaking with silent laughter.

  His amusement was echoed by the demons surrounding us, their chuckles almost drowning out the music. I wanted to laugh along with them, but that burning hot feeling in my chest didn’t let me. I scratched at my breastbone, trying to dislodge the feeling that reminded me too much of mortification.

  Lucifer asked me something, but I didn’t hear what. The giant soap bubble floating behind his head distracted me something fierce. I leaned forward to pop it, but for some reason my coordination was off and I ended up poking my finger in Lucifer’s eye.

  Or would have, if he hadn’t caught my hand at the last second.

  “Phew, good catch,” I breathed.

  He winked, brought my hand to his mouth, and nibbled at the tip of my still outstretched finger. I squirmed and slapped my hand free with my other hand. Neat to have two hands, wasn’t it?

  “Nooooo,” I whispered harshly to Lucifer, cradling my hand that was smarting from where I’d slapped it to my chest. “You mustn’t do that. I’m a married woman. And I’m faithful.”

  “To Azazel,” Lucifer said, his eyes full of mischief. “And he to you.” He pressed his lips together, obviously trying hard to hold back laughter. “The powerful, cunning Azazel, bound in holy matrimony to a human, for all eternity.” With his next words, the laughter burst past his restraint. “Trapped by the blundering incompetence of a foolish child.”

  Guffaws and jeers rose all around us, and the dark, twisted, burning feeling in my chest flared up, seared off the edges of the happy fog I was in. I frowned, rubbed at my chest again, something nauseous and heavy churning in my guts.

  “Hey,” I muttered, glaring at Lucifer. “That’s mean.”

  “You don’t say,” he purred with a smile as sharp as a dagger’s edge. “I wonder, though, whether it wasn’t so much your incompetence as it was his. To stumble right into a summoning trap performed by a witless human youngling…” He clucked his tongue, a cruel twist to his mouth. “That takes a special talent in ineptitude, don’t you think?”

  More laughter all around us, but this time I didn’t feel like joining in, despite the euphoria still wrapping me in soft, happy cotton that wouldn’t allow for any worries. Something seemed…off? And it wasn’t because I was keeling over yet again—Lucifer held me tight on his lap.

  He was about to say something else when a thunderous boom rocked the hall. In an instant, Lucifer shoved me to the ground and rose to his feet. I hit the floor with an oomph, pain shooting up my hip and side where I’d landed. The world spun as if I were on a merry-go-round, and I flailed as chaos reined around me, more explosions going off near and far, Lucifer barking orders, demons running, and…glitter swirling through the air?

  I uttered a delighted gasp, then squealed when someone grabbed me and threw me over a shoulder as they hauled me off.

  “Wheeeee!” I grinned and stretched out my arms, pretending to fly backward.

  Pink glitter rained down on me as I bounced with the hurried steps of whoever carried me. I stuck out my tongue to taste it and immediately regretted my decision. Ugh. Not sweet at all.

  While I pouted, my gaze fell on the two swords strapped to the back of the demon over whose shoulder I was draped. I reached for the handle of one, kept missing, and got it on the third try. With a triumphant whoop, I unsheathed the blade and proceeded to brandish it toward the chaotic crowd we were leaving behind.

  “My name is Inigo Montoya,” I yelled. “You killed my father. Prepare to die!”

  The demon who carried me growled, reached back with one arm and wrested the sword from my grip.

  Not a Princess Bride fan, then. Pity.

  I was about to grab the second sword when the flex of the demon’s ass drew my attention. Well, hello. Stretching both arms, I tried to reach down to pinch the firmest backside I ever did see, only to ball my hands to fists at the last second.

  No, no, bad. Faithful, remember? I shouldn’t go around fondling random demons’ butts.

  But it looked so touchable, dammit! I stretched down again.

  No, bad Zoe! I yanked my hands back and bit my lip.

  “Stop wriggling,” the demon snarled, and I gasped, recognizing the voice.

  “Azazel!” A huge smile spread on my face. “Oh, thank goodness it’s you.”

  No wonder I’d been craving to touch that booty! I immediately stretched down again and squeezed both his cheeks with a delighted sigh. Hmmmmm.

  “Zoe.” A strangled growl.

  I fondled him some more. “You have the best ass. The. Best.” I emphasized the last two words with an affectionate slap on each cheek.

  “Quit that,” he bit out.

  I opened my mouth to give a retort, but the sudden jerking movement of Azazel cut me off. A slash, a grunt, and then something warm sprayed my face. I blinked, looked at the crumpling form of a demon as Azazel hurried past.

  “Did you just stab that guy?”

  “Yes.”


  “You should chop off his wings!”

  “No.”

  “I could hold them, and we could take them back home, and I’ll hang them on your wall.”

  Azazel’s answer was a muttered, “Hell give me patience,” to which I probably would haven taken great offense if the flying elephant hadn’t distracted me. I enthusiastically waved at it, but my gesture was lost as the throne room vanished out of sight. Azazel had just walked into a hallway off the big room, the sounds of the melee hushing when the door fell shut behind us.

  “Awww,” I whined. “I was just making friends with Dumbo.”

  I felt more than heard Azazel’s mighty sigh, his back muscles contracting and releasing under my hands. He seemed aggravated for some reason. Probably because he didn’t have time to rip off those wings. It would have soothed him.

  The door opened again and in strode my sister-in-law.

  “Azmodea!” I shouted with glee.

  She’d somehow managed to change clothes. Her voluminous dress gone, she now wore tight-fitting leather pants and a black, steampunk-ish looking top that accentuated her fiery hair.

  “I love your outfit!” I gave her two thumbs up.

  “What took you so long?” Azazel grated as he rounded on her.

  I didn’t see her anymore since Azazel had turned to her, but her voice held an edge that made me think she had at least one hand on her hip and a death glare on her face.

  “Well, excuse you, because I know you didn’t just snap at me after I spent the last half hour planting the bombs around the hall while making sure none of the guards got wind of it. I think what you meant to say is thank you.”

  “You tell him, girl!” I yelled.

  “Where’s Mammon?” Azazel’s voice sounded clipped.

  “Setting off the last of the glitter bombs and causing more havoc. He’ll meet us back home.”

  “Glitter!” I cried and clapped my hands. “I love glitter!”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Amrit,” Azazel growled.

  “You let her drink that?”

  “I didn’t!” he roared.

  “Don’t you roar at me,” she hissed.

  “Yeah,” I said, pinching his butt. “We don’t roar at people. That’s rude.”